


Switcharoo

by lexi_con



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, First Time, Intercrural Sex, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Misunderstandings, Nicknames, Somnophilia, This is PWP but they are in love, Time Travel, Topping from the Bottom, Under-negotiated Kink, thigh job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21622660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexi_con/pseuds/lexi_con
Summary: Dimitri wakes up in an unfamiliar setting twice in one night. Luckily, there’s a familiar presence that he takes comfort in.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 24
Kudos: 285





	1. Dimitri

**Author's Note:**

> Two fics in one week? Who am I? It must be that good ol’ rarepair juice that drives me.  
> So. Pre timeskip Dimitri and Sylvain aren’t dating, but their post war selves sure do. This is just younger and older Dimitri switching places one night and what transpires when he is confronted with the love of his life in the same bed.  
> comfort in the fact that it is dark and my boys just love each other very much so they wanted to get it on.

Dimitri has no idea what’s happening when he wakes up. The mattress is a little softer than he ever remembered it being, there’s an unfamiliar ceiling above him that’s illuminated by soft moonlight and most of all, there’s a strange yet pleasant warmth at his side. When he turns his head he has to actively stop himself from yelping in surprise, a man he’s never seen before is tucked into the crook of his neck sleeping as if it is the most natural thing. And if Dimitri concentrates hard enough he can feel that ah, this man _is_ all natural at the moment.

Panic rising in his chest, Dimitri tries to scoot away, but it proves difficult to do so without jostling the other. There’s a soft, sleepy noise from the unknown man as he’s woken and cuddle even _closer_ even though Dimitri is trying to get away.

”Dima?” the man slurs in sleep-dunkness, a yawn blurring the end of the nickname. It isn’t a nickname he’s used to being called. Only his father and step mother ever called him that, it makes something in his chest squeeze uncomfortably.

But he says nothing, hoping that if he lays really still and quiet the man will go back to slumbering away. But he has no such luck. A large, intimate hand splays over his chest an Dmitri can feel the warmth of the other’s skin even through his nightshirt.

”When did you put on clothes?” the man asks, getting one finger in between buttons to touch skin directly. 

Dimitri wants to defend that he always sleeps with clothes on, but doesn’t utter a peep, even as his shirt is unbuttoned so that the man’s entire hand can slip under it. Blunt nails scrape softly against him and the hand goes further, over his nipple (no, his breath did _not_ hitch when that happened!) and around his pectoral, cupping the muscle and giving a little squeeze as if it was the obvious thing to do.

”You’re so warm, Dima…” the man’s voice has taken on a different lilt, more breath and darker notes caressing Dimitri’s ear. He shivers, unable to hold the instinctual response back.

”You must still be tired, being in all those meetings all day…” the man whispers before something soft, warm settles against Dimitri’s neck. With a shivering breath he realizes it’s a kiss and his whole body tenses as the ticklish pleasure goes straight down to his groin. 

Something must have given it away, because the man hums in amusement before he opens his mouth and lets his warm, hot tongue taste Dimitri’s skin. He’s slow about it, taking his time, breathing heavily over the wet trail he leaves across Dimitri’s neck. His hand isn’t still either, working all the buttons of his shirt open, reaching more and more skin, his fingers gently tracing every bump and indent between muscles and bones he encounters. 

Dimitri knows he should say something, ask who this man is first of all, but there’s just _something_ about the casual way this man touches him so intimately he doesn’t want to stop. It had been so long he’s felt the warmth of another’s touch, entirely new and strangely irresistible to have it in this way. Right no he feels good, just like any other would, and he finds himself not wishing this to stop.

His train of thought is interrupted by his own gasp when he feels a warm hand cup his erection through his night pants. The man moans against his neck as his palm presses against the protruding head, slowly working his hand up and down over the fabric, eliciting shuddering, restrained moans from Dimitri.

”You’ve been so busy lately,” the man sighs, ”it’s been driving me crazy.”

Dimitri just accepts that statement as fact, not willing to argue the point when he could focus entirely on the hand that pleases him. His hips start rocking in time with the strokes, poorly controlled and stuttering, but he’s so desperate for friction he doesn’t care how it looks.

”You want it too?” the man asks coyly and hums in approval when Dimitri nods eagerly. It isn’t spelled out, but Dimitri has enough presence of mind to realize what will happen, even if he hasn’t had any personal experience with it. He just knows, on some horny instinctual level, that he wants whatever this man is offering him.

”Just a sec,” the man says then and removes himself from Dimitri’s side. The loss of warmth and pressure against his dock almost has him whining, but he eagerly, almost religiously follows the way the man turns and reaches over to a nightstand, bringing a vial that had been placed there to the bed. He wonders what it’s for just as the man turns to him again, but instead of settling at his side once more the man gets up on his knees, throwing one leg over Dimitri’s hip to straddle him. 

The whole expanse of the other man is now laid bare to him, even if the poor lighting eludes most details and shrouds the man’s face in more shadow than anything. Still, Dimitri can see the trained physique of the man; his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his smooth chest and toned abs, his strong legs and erect—

Dimitri has to swallow around the dryness in his throat when his eyes fall onto the other’s dick. It stands proud, pointing upward and lening a little to the side, with plump balls at the base that makes Dimitri’s mouth water when he imagines having them between his lips.

He can’t stop staring, his mind going through all of his filthy fantasies and bringing them to the surface, not until he sees the man’s hand coming down by the side of his groin, reaching behind to where Dimitri can’t see. But he hears slick sounds, and then the man falls forward, supporting himself on one hand while the other plays with himself getting him ready.

Now, with his face closer, Dimitri manages to raise his gaze, taking in the truly handsome man unashamedly. He seems somehow familiar, with his sharp nose, high cheekbones and softly curved lips. It is a face Dimitri feels as if he knows, yet has never seen before. But then the man opens his eyes, and Dimitri’s lungs have all their air stolen.

”Sylvain?” he whispered hoarsely, hands instinctively settling on the other’s thighs, holding tight to try and ground himself in his realization.

”You want it?” Sylvain, who’s not quite the Sylvain Dimitri always knew, asks coyly, not at all deterred by Dimitri’s surprised tone. 

This must be a dream. That’s why Sylvain is not quite as he remembers, has lost whatever boyish charm that still remained on his figure and matured into a handsome man that _wants Dimitri_ . This couldn’t be anything _but_ a self-indulgent dream that caters to all his perverted fantasies he’s had about one of his oldest friends. Satisfies his desire to have Sylvain close, to have Sylvain looking at him as something _more_ than a regent or friend.

 _”Yes,”_ Dimitri hisses, fingers digging into Sylvain’s thighs with desperate want. 

Sylvain chuckles a little, body quivering just slightly in response to Dimitri’s want for him. But there is no teasing, only unabashed reprocication of that desire when Sylvain pulls his hand away from his own ass, leaning back on his haunches and reaching for Dimitri’s cock. When Sylvain’s warm, calloused hand wraps around him Dimitri lets out a noise not unlike a begging puppy, voice broken and so overwhelmed his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

”Oh Dima, darling,” Sylvain moans as he rubs the head of the dick in his hand against his ass. The puckered entrance is slick with oil and Dimitri can’t stop the twitch of his hips, seeking that tightness, that warmth that he feels. He doesn’t have to do anything though; with one breathy groan Sylvain sinks down, taking Dimitri in so beautifully.

Dimitri doesn’t know what ruins him more. He’s never felt anything like it, Sylvain’s warm and slick insides clamping down around his sensitive cock, sending electricity through his body with vengeful intensity. But his eyes can’t look away from Sylvain’s lean body, the way he arches, they way his brows furrow before he throws his head back and moans loudly, Dimitri’s name falling from his lips like a divine praise. 

Dimitri doesn’t know what pushes him harder to the edge, but almost as soon as he feels Sylvain’s weight rest on his pelvic he can’t stop the jerking of his hips, or the orgasm that hit him like a horse at full speed, making him dizzy with it.

Sylvain doesn’t protest, instead groaning in pleasure with one hand on Dimitri’s thigh to steady himself and the other reaching up to his own chest, cupping one of the toned muscles and squeezing. Dimitri hungrily watches the way the plump flesh bulges between Sylvain’s fingers, the dark nipple he flicks absently as he indulges in the feeling of cum coating the insides of his ass.

”Goddess, it really has been a long month, hasn’t it,” Sylvain moans, gently grinding his hips in a slow circle, ”I was devastated when I found you asleep. I missed you inside me, Dima.”

Dimitri chokes out a needy mewl, already feeling how his cock hardens inside Sylvain again, worked by the pulsing walls. Sylvain seems to notice, humming in satisfaction as he gives a rougher movement with his hips and lets his mouth fall open around a moan as he hits one of his sweetspots. He looks so ethereal, like a siren made for luring his victims into his irresistible heat, consuming their soul as he gives them pleasure in return. 

But the tender, loving light in Sylvain’s eyes tells Dimitri Sylvain would never let him crash and burn like that. It doesn’t mean that Dimitri doesn’t want him to take whatever he can though.

With his cock coaxed to full hardness again Dimitri surges up, wrapping his arms around Sylvain and tipping them over, earning a surprised yelp from the other as his back hits the mattress. Sylvain laughs at the rough and admittedly clumsy switch in position and wraps his arms around Dimitri’s shoulders, hugging him close. Dimitri on the other end huffs at the chuckle Sylvain so obviously directs at him. But the sweet sound soon stops as Sylvain’s hands roam over Dimitri’s back, soon settling on his shoulders. 

”Dima, I was thinking this before too but…” Sylvain gives a little push and Dimitri obediently gets up on his elbows to see how Sylvain critically observes him, ”did you somehow get smaller?”

Dimitri wants to ask something similar, but he also knows this has to be a dream, one that realized his wishful thinking of having Sylvain by his side, in his bed. He’s afraid it will shatter the illusion, so he doesn’t say anything. But Sylvain searches for answers, their eyes meeting. Dimitri doesn’t expect to see anything more than question on Sylvain’s face, but he sees the confusion morph into shock in a split second.

”Dimitri, your eye…?”

* * *

The world is a spinning mess when Dimitri wakes in the middle of the night. Drunk on sleep he throws an arm out, feeling the bed for familiar warmth but manages to slam his hand into a wall he had no recollection of ever being there. 

Confused he takes a moment to steady his field of vision, frowning up at the familiar but misplaced ceiling. He takes in the surrounding room, realizing he isn’t in his usual chamber in Fhirdiad, but back in his room in Garreg Mach. But even as he realizes this, it isn’t like the last time he had been there. The walls are less rugged and there’s books and decorations that were removed after the imperial invasion. There’s also a collection of broken weapons in one corner, a bad habit from his student days before he had had proper training in controlling his strength. 

This has to be a prank, is what he decides. How he would have slept for the six days it takes to travel to Garreg Mach from the royal palace he doesn’t think about, only concerned with finding whoever it was that orchestrated this and setting things straight.

He’s naked, just like he remembers being when he went to bed, so he wraps the blanket he was under around his waist before trudging out into the corridor. It is dark, as expected in the middle of the night. He lets the wall guide him to the next door, fumbling with his poor night vision to find the handle. As expected he finds it unlocked, knowing the occupant rarely ever ensured their own safety.

”Sylvain,” he calls, fully expecting the man to be there. 

There's the sound of fabric rustling and grumpy groans that Dimitri would recognize anywhere from within so he opens the door, not at all ready for the stink of female perfume to perpetuate the room. It is a smell he feels nauseous from, one he used to hate with a burning passion in his younger days and isn’t surprised to find he still does. 

Sylvain’s room hasn’t had this stink in many years and Dimitri feels the monster inside him stir; its awful, festering claws trying to scratch at the cage it is contained within. 

No, there’s a reason for this. Sylvain wouldn’t cheat on him, even if they had been apart for a month. 

A lot could happen in a month. 

”Sylvain,” he demands again, this time slightly more desperately.

”Your Highness?” the title is unfamiliar with that voice by now, but he doesn’t care as he marches into the room, relieved to see only one human shaped lump on the bed, ”what time is it?”

”I have no idea,” Dimitri answers as he settles down on the mattress, quickly trapping Sylvain between his arms as he leers down at him. There’s barely any light in the room, only moonlight filtering in from a crack between the curtains, so he can’t really see much, only that Sylvain is now on his back, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

”What’s wrong? I doubt I overslept,” Sylvain grumbles. How Sylvain is keeping up a shine of obliviousness even in his rest addled state, Dimitri has no idea.

”Why am I here?” Dimitri asks because he wants to know, but his mind is also acutely aware of the fact that he is now, for the first time in a damned moon cycle, alone with his (probably) naked lover. He silently curses his dark-blindness. 

”I don’t know, Your Highness. _You’re_ the one barging into _my_ room in the middle of the night,” Sylvain sighs.

”Don’t jest with me. Why am I here, at Garreg Mach?” 

”To get an education?” Sylvain only seems exasperated, irritated that his rest has been interrupted for such trivial questions. But his answer doesn’t make any sense.

”Seriously, Sylvain,” Dimitri shoots back, equally irritated.

”Seriously, Your Highness,” oh, what an attitude. Dimitri isn’t used to Sylvain being bratty with him like this and it makes him frown, ”please, just let me sleep. I’ll try to help you handle whatever crisis you’re going through in the morning.”

Dimitri doesn’t like that answer but alright, he is also tired, after all. Maybe it has such a convoluted plan that it would take time to explain and Sylvain just didn’t have the presence of mind to handle the details right now. 

”Fine,” he huffs and nudges at Sylvain to roll over before he also lays down, using his makeshift skirt for its intended purpose as a blanket and laying an arm around Sylvain, settling in for sleep. Truly he wants to do overcome the melatonin telling him to close his eyes and spend a little more time reuniting with his love, but he figures that with Sylvain’s mid-night mood it could wait until morning. 

”Um… What are you doing, Your Highness?” Sylvain asks, confusion lending an unsteady quality to his tone. 

”Going to sleep,” Dimitri wonders why Sylvain keeps calling him by his old title, but decides not to comment.

”Here?” 

He nuzzles into the baby hairs at Sylvain’s nape, letting his lips brush against the skin there, ”does it matter? My bed isn’t any bigger than yours.”

”T-that isn’t the problem here…” Sylvain’s voice take on that hitching quality he always gets when he’s aroused and it makes Dimitri smile a little. So he wasn’t the only one who had felt longing this past month after all.

”There’s no problem, as long as you can keep quiet,” Dimitri teases with a soft kiss to Sylvain’s neck, letting the arm that laid over Sylvain’s waist travel further down, pushing their hips flush against each other. 

”Y-your Highness,” Sylvain attempts to hiss, but it comes out as a stutter instead, not nearly as off putting as Sylvain surely intended to make it. 

Dimitri’s hand dig into the flesh of Sylvain’s inner thigh, just at the crease to his groin, squeezing there. It isn’t as taut by muscle as it usually is, but Dimitri doesn’t mind, does not reflect beyond the fact that it makes Sylvain shiver against his chest. 

”Don’t want to?” Dimitri asks lowly, not wishing to force his love to do anything he doesn’t want to.

”No, it’s…” Sylvain stops, surely contemplating if he’s too tired for this. But then there’s a shuddering breath, ”it’s fine.”

The smile on Dimitri’s lips is lost when he opens his mouth, latching onto the inviting neck in front of him. The salty taste of sweat tingles his palate and it makes him groan, overwhelmed by the familiar taste, reminded of how much he had missed it. Surely his marks from a month ago have faded by now. It isn’t more than right that he replaces them.

As his mouth feasts with teeth and tongue on Sylvain’s neck, his one free hand moves from Sylvain’s thigh to his balls, fondling the hot sack through the thin blanket that separates them. He does it just like Sylvain likes it; rolling one with the heel of his hand, pinching between then gently to stretch the sensitive skin taunt, then reaching back, pressing at his perineum to give that dull tease of pressure to the prostate. Sylvain quivers under him, thighs clamping down around Dimitri’s hand as he desperately tries to keep quiet, going so far as to shoving the corner of his pillow into his mouth. 

Dimitri feels conflicted. He is glad to see him so obedient for once so they could avoid a scolding in the morning, but he also wants to hear those sweet noises that he loves so much.

Still, the thought of Sylvain’s mouth stuffed full _does_ things to him. 

Unable to hold back, Dimitri uses what little movement he has with his trapped hand to pull down the covers, exposing Sylvain’s back and round ass to his touch. He presses forward, the head of his cock smearing precum all over the small of Sylvain’s back as he grinds his hips, the base of his shaft fitting snugly between Sylvain’s ass cheeks. 

Goddess, he wants to be inside.

”Do you have any oil?” Dimitri has to ask because he isn’t sure; they usually sleep in his room when they come here. 

Sylvain shakes his head, thighs tightening even more viciously around Dimitri’s hand when one of his fingers flicks again Sylvain’s puckered entrance. He feels the muscles there clench and twitch, making his own balls tighten in some kind of conditioned response, eager to release his seed within those hot, desperate walls.

Half of Dimitri wants to go back to his room and get that damned oil, but the other, more dominant half refuses to let Sylvain go for even a second. But they can make do, the sometimes limited time they have together has led to a lot of creative solutions. 

Maybe this one isn’t as creative as others, but it is one of their favourites.

Moving his hips back, Dimitri lets the head of his cock slide down along the divide of Sylvain’s ass, moaning as the head digs into the plump fat and muscle. He pushes forward, a barely restrained moan leaving him when he can feel the tip of his cock catching slightly against Sylvain’s hole. He can’t resist grinding there, timing the circular motion he does with his hips with his fingers, pressing behind the base of Sylvain’s balls to make it _so good_ for him. 

He feel’s Sylvain trembling violently, hears the sobs of pleasure even if he tries to muffle them with the pillow. It almost feels like he’s violating his lover, by making him quiet, making him take whatever is given too him, robbing him of control. Dimitri should feel guilty, he knows that, but the desire to monopolize Sylvain always wins out, always justifies.

”You feel that, my love?” Dimitri asks as he feels the slide become easier as his precum smears all over Sylvain’s asshole, ”that’s the cock you love so much, so wet for you.”

He knows Sylvain is weak to dirty talk, weak to being degraded and treated like a high-end whore, but even he is surprised when Sylvain arches, moans coming in short, interrupted breath as his body spasms. His thighs and hips jerk in small but frantic movements, one second pressing into all the sensations, the next moving away, too overstimulated. He’s cumming and Dimitri stares in surprise, only being able to make out that Sylvain’s entire body twitches through the orgasm. 

Aftershocks of the pleasure occasionally squeezes Dimitri’s hand and cock, but other than that Sylvain goes lax, heavy breathing evening out to a slow rhythm within a few moments. 

”Sylvain?” Dimitri asks, but get to response, neither physically or verbally. Did he pass out? Pass out from pleasure?

There’s something about the thought of that, and the literal evidence in front of him, that makes him feel like a proud cat. He managed to bring his love to such a powerful completion, and even if the already present tiredness was a factor it still counted, that he passed out. 

With such satisfaction comes another mighty need; the need to have his mark on his lover, needs to have him aware of what Dimitri did to him, even after he was dead to the world. 

His ass is out of question right now, but Dimitri easily pushes his cock forward, making a tight, soft passage for his cock between Sylvain’s tighs and balls. The fat and muscle at the apex of Sylvain’s thighs yields perfectly to the hard cock and Dimitri’s only complaint is that he can’t make Sylvain watch him, watch as the head of his cock pushes at his balls, using them as a cushion for the head of his cock to grind into. He helps the pressure, cupping Sylvain’s balls in his hand and using it to fuck against them, cockhead kissing them hard every time he thrusts forward. It feels so good, the plump, still tight sack fitting so good around his tip.

When his orgasm is near, Dimitri pulls back just enough to have the head of his cock firmly nested in Sylvain’s thighs, pressing against his perineum. Possessive whispers of _mine, mine, my love, all mine_ falls from his lips into Sylvain’s skin as he quickly pumps the base of his cock, pushing himself over the edge with the thought that Sylvain would wake up to the slick feeling of Dimitri’s cum all over his most private parts. 

Even as he rocks through his orgasm, moaning as he paints Sylvain’s inner thighs with his cum, he wants to do more, go get that oil and spoil his love’s ass so good he’d be able to slip inside without waking him. But it’s not right, not giving Sylvain a chance to say no, to give his permission. Though someday he will have the courage to ask.

With the bittersweet thought on his mind he finally relaxes down into the bed again. Dimitri covers them both with his blanket before he closes his eyes. His lips are unable to resist leaving gentle kisses along the nape of Sylvain’s neck, but soon enough he falls asleep with his face tucked into vibrant ginger hair.


	2. Sylvain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few of you dear readers out there wanted to see how Sylvain reacted to all this, so here it is!

Sylvain is on his knees when the sun rises, mercilessly pushed past his body’s limits. He’s unable to resist, body like a pliant doll as he’s fucked over and over again. His legs are tucked beneath him and his shoulder’s are pressed down into the bed by overwhelming strength; the only thing he can do is just lie there and take it.

But he doesn’t mind, not when he hears the desperate whines and stuttering sobs of his name. 

He doesn’t know what he looks like, but he imagines it would remind him of a well-earning whore; skin covered in sweat and cum, hair sticking out in every direction and his neck coloured in red and blue from teeth and lips. His partner was insatiable, acting with blind desire and not much else. Though he can understand why.

He glances over his shoulder, sees Dimitri with his sweat-mated hair, eyes closed but mouth open around his sounds of pleasure. It is a familiar sight, yet different. He’s much smaller, neater even in his disheveled state, more selfish in his eager thrusting. But that’s alright, Sylvain likes to spoil his lover and this time he doesn’t get demonstrative actions in protest. 

”S-Sylvain, I-I—I’m gonna—!” Dimitri groans, his hips growing irregular in their movements. Sylvain has lost count over how many times Dimitri cummed, he surely passed out from exhaustion at least once, waking up again to Dimitri still pounding into him like a mating dog, like a _beast_.

With one final, bruising slap of his hips Dimitri buries himself in Sylvain, adding to the already overflowing cum that’s inside. He falls forward, arms tucked along Sylvain’s side, hands finding his chest and adding to the marred fingerprints already there. Sylvain doesn’t really feel anything, his cock was spent after hour three, nerve endings in his entire body dulling every sensation from there onwards. It’s fine though, he doesn’t need more than the satisfaction that comes with having the king—oh wait, _the prince_ —desire him so. 

Dimitri is shorter than him now, so it is a little awkward to crane his neck to meet the other in a trembling kiss. But the sloppy, _greedy_ mouth he collides with is worth it. Just as expected Dimitri isn’t a great kisser (yet), but there’s something nostalgic in the way he tries to swallow Sylvain whole through it. 

Though his energy is running out, finally. Dimitri’s mouth slows and he starts to relax, easing his body-weight on top of Sylvain more and more with each passing moment. 

”Dimitri,” Sylvain mumbles when he breaks the kiss, earning him a sad puppy eyed stare, ”we should rest, you’re tired.”

 _I’m tired_ , he doesn’t say. 

Dimitri frowns at first, but his eyes are drooping at the same time. Disgruntled beyond compare, the young prince pulls out and lays down, but he quickly organizes Sylvain so he’s also on his side, pulling him close so they're pressed front to front. Sylvain is thankful for the help in getting his numb legs straightened out, so he doesn’t protest when Dimitri latches onto his chest, sucking the nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it to try and stimulate. 

Sylvain watches fondly as Dimitri’s face morphs into surprise, surely because he can taste the drops of milk that he coaxes out with his sucking. Sylvain threads his fingers through blond locks, smiling down at his young lover to reassure him it is fine.

”You always do that, it isn’t strange that I adapted to it,” he muses, rubbing his thumb gently over Dimitri’s cheek, ”I like it, having you take comfort in my body.”

Dimitri looks up at him with big, adoring eyes for a moment, but then he blinks and the lack of sleep seems to catch up to him all at once. He takes a breath that could have been a yawn if he had been willing to let go of the protruding bud in his mouth before closing his eyes, nuzzling closer, holding Sylvain tighter. He keeps suckling, but for each minute that passes the pressure gets weaker until there is none and Sylvain can feel drool dripping from Dimitri’s mouth, down his chest and into the already ruined sheets. 

Sylvain is also tired, but his head is filled with too many thoughts to be able to relax. 

When he first saw both of Dimitri’s eyes stare back at him through the darkness he thought he was hallucinating. It had been years since the war, years since Dimitri got all of the scars littering his body and lost his eye. But gears slowly started to click into place when he put the clues together; how Dimitri seemed to have shrunk, his unusually passive demeanor and the way he had no endurance in terms of denying himself pleasure. Somehow, mysteriously, his Dima had been exchanged for the younger version. 

Dimitri seemed to think it was a dream, and Sylvain couldn’t really blame him, he also thought it was a delusion at first. But all the bodily sensations were real, the sting of Dimitri’s cock entering him because he hadn’t prepared himself enough in desperation was _very_ real.

Still, he didn’t want to stop. 

Just like his older self Dimitri was so eager, so _wanting_ , that Sylvain was unable to say no, to listen to the rational voice telling him he shouldn’t be allowing a mere teenager to fuck him, no matter who it was. Though rationality rarely had a place in the bedroom so Sylvain had promptly thrown that thought away. And while the technique wasn’t there Dimitri surely made up for it with zeal. 

After realizing that the Dimitri before him wasn’t _his_ Dimitri Sylvain had taken a more passive role, letting the younger man live out his fantasies to keep him thinking this was all a dream. He didn’t know what kind of complications this might have if this really was Dimitri from the past, or if it was just some kind of spell that had regressed Dimitri back to his younger self. Not that he’d ever heard of such magic being executed successfully, but time travel seemed even more bizarre. 

So now, what does he do?

Laying in bed, _sleeping_ , is a very inviting prospect, but he feels like he really has to tell someone else about this. Who knows, maybe when he returns with Dedue in tow Dimitri will be back too normal, because the universe loves to humiliate him. Only problem is that despite being asleep, Dimitri’s arms are firmly locked into place around Sylvain and he knows he has no chance of sneaking away without waking the other. 

His problem will find a way to solve itself, though at the expense of his dignity, as usual. 

When Dedue opens the door after a quiet knock he catches Sylvain frantically trying to reach for a blanket, but they’re all out of reach, so Dedue is graciously given a full view of his naked ass. 

”Good morning, Sylvain,” Dedue says as if he isn’t bothered, but his cheeks are a little darker and his eyes are firmly fixed at the windows beyond the bed.

Panicked, Sylvain brings a finger to his lips and does a hissing sound, hoping that Dedue will take the hint. 

”It is time for breakfast,” damn this ever diligent right hand man, he thinks Sylvain is trying to let Dimitri sleep in, which is technically what he is doing, but for very good reason!

”Dedue, for the love of all that is holy, please be quiet,” Sylvain whispers harshly, ”we have a situation.”

”I am sure you do,” Dedue says as he marches forward, intent on opening the curtains.

”Goddess help me if you open those curtains I will tell Ashe about _that!_ ” Sylvain threatens as a last resort, effectively stopping Dedue in his tracks. 

The large man turns just before he reached the curtains, eyes stonier than usual as he meets Sylvain’s gaze head on, ”it is morning, you have to get up.”

Sylvain sighs in relief, ”I know, but as I said, there’s a situation with the Highness.”

Dedue frowns and looks down at his naked liege, taking a few seconds to realize what he is looking at. But when he does, it is the most shocked expression Sylvain has ever seen in the other’s face. Quietly he approaches the bed, picking up one of the blankets on the way, goddess bless him. He lays the cover over the occupants lower halves before taking in exactly what is before him.

”That’s...but how?” Dedue asks, just as bewildered as Sylvain had been.

”I have no idea, I woke up in the middle of the night with him like this.” Sylvain whispers, ”but he was normal when I arrived yesterday.”

”So is he from the academy days or…?” Sylvain knows what the other wants to have said, but he gently shakes his head.

”He thinks this is a dream. I don’t know if he’s time travelled here or if it is our Dima with a spell over him, but he doesn’t know that we’re together, at least,” that last part stings a little to be honest, but Sylvain ignores it for more pressing matters. 

”I will get Annette and the other mages, perhaps they will know what’s going on,” Dedue nods to himself and Sylvain can see the gears grinding behind his forehead. Having their friends, including some of the purer ones, see him like this isn’t high on his to do before he dies list, but he figures he has to take the sacrifice in order to restore things to how they should be. 

While waiting he can’t really do much except look around, and with the room being the same as always he focuses his attention on Dimitri. Now that he has the real thing in front of him it is almost comical how he has changed over the years. The hair he now thread his fingers through is neat, cut in straight lines and has traces of proper styling, compared to the wild grown mess that the king doesn’t care for. His face is smooth, without the deep lines of exhaustion that never quite disappears from below his eyes no matter how long he rests. And this Dimitri is small in comparison, shoulders broad for a seventeen year old, but nowhere near as big as they will become after years of desperate fighting and killing. 

The gentle burn of tears welled up in his eyes as he realizes that this Dimitri has yet to experience any of that. He wishes he could keep him here, safe and away from the hurt that surely isn’t far away. Or maybe his future is a different one, a happier one. Sylvain certainly hopes so. 

He presses his lips to the top of Dimitri’s head, whispering, ”I’ll be there for you, no matter what.”

* * *

The first thing Sylvain realizes after he wakes is that there is some kind of weight over his middle and sweltering heat under the blanket. Frowning, he moves to throw the blanket off, only to realize his arm is pinned under whatever it is that envelops his upper body. Looking down he sees that it’s a hand, but this one looks decidedly more angular than that of a woman, not to mention that he even remember inviting anyone to his bedroom last night. 

But, someone did invite themselves. 

With a jerk Sylvain turns as much as he can, catching sight of a broad, scarred shoulder and long blonde hair. That’s _not_ His Highness. 

This unknown man does seem to still be sleeping though, so Sylvain makes an effort to pry the arm around him away, barely managing with how it tightens each time he tries to pull it away. In the end he has to squeeze out, watching as this strange, one eyed man searches the sheets for him before grabbing a pillow and pulling it close as substitute. 

The entire time he’s aware of the sticky feeling between his legs, realizing what this man had done to him while he was sleeping. The thought of being violated by _Dimitri_ hadn’t been so bad, but some stranger? He felt sick. 

Granted it was a _handsome_ stranger and Sylvain wouldn’t have minded if they had gotten to know each other first, but now he just makes a promise to himself to always lock his door. 

He has to go get someone.

He tries to climb over the man in his bed, but just as his sticky junk is right above the unknown man’s head his calf is grabbed by that hand that had held him all night. ”Fuck” doesn’t seem like a severe enough profanity right now

Sylvain can’t get his leg loose no matter how he tries, the strength of the grip on his calf too strong. He tries to shake it loose, but that only makes it so that he moves unnecessarily, rousing the man from sleep. 

The grumpy groan from below him has him freezing into place. He looks down and sees the man stirring and he has the audacity to nuzzle his face against Sylvain’s knee that was so nicely accessible. The man seems to enjoy the warmth, his lips kissing the sensitive skin so that Sylvain can’t help the shiver that runs up his spine. He tries to tell himself it’s because he’s disgusted. 

”Sylvain…” the man mumbles and Sylvain wonders when he got a stalker that could say his name that softly. Though he doesn’t have much time to think because the man seems to finally realize that he’s facing a knee, so he opens his one eye, frowning. 

”Wha…” he mutters and Sylvain swears that voice sounds just like the Highness, but he also doesn’t really think right now because he is too embarrassed by the fact he has some guy staring up at his cum covered junk.

”Oh...Good morning to you too,” the man has the good sense to be a little embarrassed at least, but he also doesn’t let go of Sylvain, instead rolling onto his back and gripping Sylvain’s thighs as if that was somehow _natural_ for him to do so.

”Let go of me!” Sylvain yells, finally managing to wrestle away from the man, gracelessly falling down to the floor where he quickly clambers for a shirt, _anything_ , to cover up his naked body from this _pervert_. 

”Are you ok?” the man sounds concerned and gets up on his elbows.

”Who—,” Sylvain has managed to grab a shirt and quickly puts it on, ”who are you?!”

”What are you talking about, Sylvain?” The man asks and has the gall to actually seem confused, ”it’s me.”

”That doesn’t tell me anything,” Sylvain hisses and goes for a pair of pants to pull on in all haste.

”Did you hit your head when you fell? It’s me, Dimitri.”

”Dimi—, that’s rich,” Sylvain’s heart did _not_ skip a beat, ”His Highness is sleeping next door.”

”No, I’m right here,” this supposed Dimitri-man insists, but after his words he stops and takes Sylvain in with his singular eye, that now when Sylvain also has a moment to look it is very familiar…

”You...how old are you? the man asks and if it had been in a less serious tone Sylvain would have been _very_ reluctant to answer.

”Nineteen, what of it?” Sylvain asks as he finally manages to properly close his pants. He’s about to go for the door when the man gets up and grabs him, obviously not caring about the fact that he’s naked and has his big dick hanging out for the world (for _Sylvain_ ) to see.

”It’s 1180?” the man breathes in shock, grip on Sylvain’s arms loosening, ”b-but that’s impossible…”

Sylvain frowns; this guy must have a screw loose. He pulls away, trying to regain some type of control of the situation. 

”I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing in my room, but if you leave _right now_ I won’t call the guards,” Sylvain growls, demonstratively moving to the door and gripping the handle. He thinks the man is about to take the offer, but instead of walking past him, large, warm hands come up to cup his face. His head is tilted back, forcing him to look into the eye of the man. 

”Sylvain, it is me, Dimitri,” the man says again and softly rubs his thumbs over Sylvain’s cheeks, ”you can see it, can’t you?”

The colour of the hair is the same, and has that slick-smooth look to it, just like the Highness he knows, but it is so much longer and unkept than he even imagined it would be allowed to be. Then there’s the height; Dimitri is shorter than him, it’s just how things have always been, but this stranger is tall, almost a head taller. There’s just so much that doesn’t align with what he knows about the prince, about his _friend_ , but as he stares into the steadfast eye that begs him to accept what’s before him he can’t stop the voice that whispers that it’s true. 

Still, there’s one test that can convince him without a doubt.

”If you really are him, take that lance over there and snap it in half,” Sylvain inclines his head towards an old steel lance he was supposed to polish a few weeks ago, but it had been collecting dust and giving him a procrastinators guilt for an equal amount of him. 

Supposed-Dimitri follows his notion and sees the lance, wordlessly going over to it and with a quick flex of his muscles he snaps it in half, with even less effort than His Highness has ever done. 

Alright, maybe he wasn’t lying.

”Um...how are you…so big?” wow, so eloquent, Gautier.

The man—no, hadn’t he established this was Dimitri already—looks at himself and shugs, “I grew a lot during the coming five years.”

“So you’re...from 5 years in the future?” Sylvain finds that hard to believe, but he also sees no other explanation for this crazy situation.

“No, I’m from 1190, ten years from now,” Dimitri rubs his head, seemingly also getting an approaching migraine from all this.

“But where is _my_ Dimitri?” Sylvain didn’t mean for it to sound like the prince was _his_ (because he isn’t, no matter how Sylvain wishes it) but the words are out there, ready to be misinterpreted. 

And _this_ Dimitri doesn’t seem to mind, smiling as he reaches for a sheet to wrap around his waist to finally preserve some modesty, “I don’t know. Maybe we switched places?”

“Is that even possible?” Sylvain frowns.

“It is just as likely as me being here in the first place. Either way, stranger things have happened,” Dimitri says that as if he truly has lived through a more bizarre situation, and Sylvain finds that hard to believe. Though looking at his scarred body maybe it isn’t so unbelievable.

“Alright…then, what happened to your eye?” the other wounds are easy to guess, there’s the distinct shapes of swinging weapons and beastly claws, but there’s morbid curiosity about the eye.

Dimitri shakes his head though, “it isn’t a nice story. Besides, I will tell you. Eventually.”

There’s a sad lilt to his tone as he approaches again, reaching for Sylvain. It feels a little strange to accept such intimacy, but Sylvain doesn’t protest when an arm curls around his waist and pulls him closer. Actually it feels kind of nice, having the arm of a hunkier version of his crush around him. Which reminds him…

“In the future...are we…” ‘together’ sticks in his throat like sticky syrup and he struggles to find a less weighted synonym.

Dimitri smiles and tilts Sylvain’s chin with a light tap to his chin, “in love? Goddess, I hope so.”

Sylvain’s eyes water as he lets out a trembling “oh.”

“In my time we haven’t seen each other for a month. Official duties in the way,” Dimitri blushes a little as he clears his throat, “that’s why I…”

He doesn’t have to say it, Sylvain is still far too aware of the lingering evidence of Dimitri’s desire between his thighs. 

“I didn’t realize you weren’t... _my_ Sylvain when I came here, I’m sorry that I forced myself on you,” Dimitri’s apology is a bit contradictory since he’s still crowding Sylvain’s space, holding him in a grip that surely feels much easier to break than it actually is. Though Sylvain doesn’t mind, he finds.

“It was unexpected but—it was f-fine,” Sylvain hates how his voice weakens with every word, and he has to hide his face against Dimitri’s shoulder to try and collect himself. The attempt is interrupted though, by a soft whisper into his ear,

“Oh yeah, you did tell me you have been in love with me since we were kids.”

Sylvain tenses. Had he told Dimitri that? When? Why?

Does this mean he would someday be brave enough to tell Dimitri he loves him?

A soft sensation hits his ear, and his entire face blooms with colour when he hutter out a squeak. There’s a second hand on his hip now and Dimitri holds him in place, keeping him still against the door as the prince (king?) bends to place a firmer, but still gentle kiss on Sylvain’s neck.

“Don’t worry my love, the feeling’s mutual,” Dimitri mumbles, dragging his lips along Sylvain’s jaw, “it always has been.”

* * *

Suddenly there’s harsh light coming from the man in his arms and Sylvain has to close his eyes, throwing his hands back in the same motion in shock. Something is happening, but he doesn’t dare to open his eyes in fear of blinding himself. The bright shine burns through his eyelids as of he had been facing the sun, so it isn’t a risk he’ll take.

However as soon as the initial surprise is gone his hands are back on the body next to him again, to his surprise feeling skin instead of the silky texture of night clothes. The shine seems to disappear just as quickly as it had appeared and he dares to crack one eye open again, gaze falling onto a familiar scar.

“Dima?” he asks hesitantly, feeling the difference in width when his arm comes down over warm shoulders. 

“Huh?” is mumbled out against his chest, “wait, what?”

“I could as the same,” Sylvain comments and curls around _his_ Dima, “where have you been?” 

The embrace is returned with eager softness, Dimitri’s arms working their way around Sylvain’s waist and holding tight, firm, “please tell me this is 1190.”

“Last time I checked,” Sylvain’s voice quivers with a tense giggling, as if his brain had finally caught up with the alien experience he’d actually had. 

“Oh, good,” Dimitri says in relief, “this is going to sound crazy...I have no idea how, but I was at Garreg Mach, ten years ago.”

“Not as crazy as you from pressumably ten years ago waking up here and fucking me all night,” Sylvain shoots back and feels Dimitri jerk.

“Wha—I did?” Dimitri pulls back, eyes roaming down over Sylvain’s body, his own face slowly darkening, “and you let me?”

“To be fair, I thought it was the usual you at first,” Sylvain felt Dimitri twitch a little at that for some reason, “but then I just, hm, let it happen? Oh don’t look at me like that, you were just too cute.”

“Even if it was another me, I don’t like the thought of another man touching you,” Dimitri swoops forward, closing his mouth over an already sore lovebite and sucking. Sylvain winces at the burn but wants more of it even when Dimitri lets go, “you’re mine. It’s not fair that that brat got to have you while I had to endure _years_ of longing.”

The sentiment could have been touching, if it hadn’t been absolutely ridiculous, Sylvain tells as much through a hearty laugh, earning himself a pouty huff. 

“If it helps, you never did get to my right boob…” Sylvain teases, cupping his chest with his own hand, “you want some breakfast?”

Dimitri hides his laugh behind a quick motion to get Sylvain on his back, crawling on top of him with confident ease. He’s as pleased as a fat cat, peering down at Sylvain with his charming smile that has Sylvain feeling like a blushing maiden every time. But he doesn’t mind, not when that gentle expression is all his. 

”I do, but I also have more pressing matters to attend to,” Dimitri says as he grips one of Sylvain’s legs and lift it to his shoulder, enjoying the way Sylvain grunts at the stretch, ”I need to remind you of who you _really_ belong to.”

Oh no, Sylvain is so smitten, it’s crazy. Is it normal to still have the butterflies five years into a relationship? Sylvain doesn’t know, he doesn’t have anything even close to compare it to.

”Hm, I might need a repetition, now that you’re mentioning it,” Sylvain chimes back and tilts his head in anticipation, feeling Dimitri’s breath over his lips.

Except the kiss never comes and instead the door is hurriedly pulled open with Dedue, Mercedes and Annette hurrying through it. But they all stop in their tracks, mercifully keeping back all the lesser known members of the royal mage association. 

There is a bout of awkward silence where no one speaks and Sylvain is the only one with enough sense to at least put his leg back down onto the mattress. 

Though Mercedes is the first to speak, smile beaming and kind as always, ”oh, I heard it was an emergency, but could it be you’re finally ready to try out that maternity spell?”

Sylvain is both indignated and pleased that Dimitri takes a little too long to answer.

* * *

At Garreg Mach Sylvain has to nurse a bump at the back of his head from his fall when a sleeping prince had suddenly crashed right into him and Dimitri has to contend with the immense guilt of his persumed marathon sex-dream being real. 

They’ll work that one out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this lil fic! Hopefully I will be able to start a new series soon about my lovely boys.  
> If you enjoyed I’d really appreciate if you left a kudo or a comment ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! If there’s interest I might do a second part from Sylvain’s perspective. Let me know if you liked it! ☺️


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